


strawberry

by heypxrcy



Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-12
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-23 20:09:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9674183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heypxrcy/pseuds/heypxrcy
Summary: when chris and eva are drunk at a party there’s only one way things can end, yet something is different on the morning after.





	

Oh, she was mad. She was mad, but most of all, she was hurt. Given the freedom that came with it, she didn’t usually mind that her mother was never home. It had stung at first, when she didn’t really understand that it was the only way to mantain their small family, but then everything inside her had settled, to a point when sometimes she almost felt happy to have the whole house to herself. But this time it had gone too far.

It had been two weeks before when she fell sick. And with sick, she meant not leaving bed for one week straight. The fever had been the worst of it, and it had got bad enough that her friends took turns to skip school and stay with her during the day, and sometimes even take her to the ER, altough both times she had been sent back home with a prescription and orders to stay in bed. And her mother, her mother, hadn’t even cared. Or if she did, she didn’t shown signs of it other than the stupid, useless daily calls that usually the girls answered.

And then, just the day before, her birthday. Every year her mother would come home with an extravagant gift of wherever she had been last. This time it should have been obvious that it would be different. After all, her mother hadn’t done shit when Eva felt sick and wanted to die, why would she come home for something so useless and boring as her birthday?

So, anyway, after the depressing “hello honey, happy birthday” call she had got, she decided one thing: she was Eva Kviig Mohn, and she wouldn’t take shit from anyone, not even her mother. So she put the empty house to good use.

She started with vodka shots around the time when only her friends were there. One for every year of life, and then… then everything was blurry. Maybe beer? Wine? Honestly, she didn’t even care.

And here she was now, kissing soft lips of a stranger whose face she hadn’t seen. They had been like that for several minutes, or what felt like several minutes anyway, but she didn’t feel like going upstairs. Not yet, at least, and given that this wasn’t the first person she had hooked up with tonight, it was starting to get weird.

Like hell would she end the night without getting laid. She wouldn’t allow herself to end it as bad as the day had started.

She feels a small hand grab her by the shoulder and shake her a little, so she spares the stranger a few seconds and turns to look, if only because there’s only one person she knows that is little but has the strength of a truck.

Sana is there, looking for something and slightly amused. She make Eva a question, probably about whatever or whoever she is looking for, but the loud music and the diziness make it impossible for her to hear, so she simply shrugs and turns to the stranger again.

And, oh, it’s a girl. She has probably met her somewhere, but it’s not like she will ask, especially since the girl is totally hooked with some guy that must have made a move while Sana was there. She could insist on getting some attention too, but the little to no interest is completely gone now and she has better things to do, like drink some more alcohol.

She focuses enough that she can get to the kitchen without even touching the wall. Then, the fridge, and then to open a beer without help. 

Fortunately for her, people prefer the rest of the house, given that the music is not so loud in there. There’s a group of apparently sober kids, and apart from them, only her and Penetrator Chris.

He is sitted on the counter with his back to the wall, head thrown back and eyes closed, with one of his legs hanging loose and the other flexed so that he can rest one of his arms on his knee. Surpisingly, he’s alone, and probably as drunk as one can be. And handsome, always so fucking, annoyingly handsome.

She chucks half the can before leaving it, and then she walks to him. 

There’s nothing she can do to back off once she’s near. Her hand lands softly on his arm to make him look at her, and once he is, once those dark eyes are on her and anything but her, she’s sure she has already lost it.

“Hello, Eva.” There’s a smirk, that gods damned smirk that makes her crazy, and then there’s just his lips, and him, and them. His hands on her back, her hair, her legs; her mouth on his neck, his jawline, his shoulder, and their eyes usually locked in a desire so strong she can barely resist it.

There’s a set of stairs at one point, and then she’s sure they are in her room. She can feel the coldness of the wall against her back, but there are also his breath on her neck, his chest against hers and his hands on her hips, and she gets lost again.

She can't… God, she can’t do anything but feel. It’s always like that when it’s about him. Be it after a party or after school, in the house or in the fucking car. Always.

(…)

The first thing she notices is the soft yet constant sunlight on her face. The second, when she moves to grab the pillow, is that someone has their arms around her waist. And finally, the third realization, is that she fucked Chris Schistad. Again.

She moves away a few inches, if only because his face is buried on her neck, and carefully places her head on the pillow, that must have moved while they were sleeping, or, actually, giving it a second thought, while they were fucking.   
She has to press her lips in order to avoid smiling. It’s not usual that he stays for the night, or until she’s fully awake. His face is relaxed in sleep, his usual smirk and badboy ways completely gone, although a small frown causes a few wrinkles on his forehead, where some strands of hair are resting. 

He looks great. Of course he still does, Eva thinks while rolling her eyes, but there’s something different this time. He looks so peaceful, so relaxed, he almost doesn’t look like himself. Nothing about the boy at her side could suggest anything about the one everyone hears gossip about.

A warm feeling inside her chest lights up at the thought that he actually trusts her enough to let his guard down. Even when they only play games, she thinks, something does happen.

Not like anyone would ever know.

She quickly looks away when a smirk appears on his face and his arms detangle from her waist. He turns so that he’s laying face down and hides both arms under the pillow, eyes still closed but the smile so evident it’s clear he’s awake.

“You really are a creep, Mohn.” He laughs. His voice is deep and raspy from the sleep, and Eva can’t do anything but turn to look at him again because, just, fucking hell.

She could tease him so easily bringing up the hug she woke up to… still, she doesn’t. She knows better than that. Better than to make him run back to whatever cage he likes to hide in, and instead, simply laughs.

“Excuse me?” Her eyebrows shoot up in a small attempt to look surprised, even when she has pretty much sold herself.

“Oh, yeah, don’t use that card with me. I know you were looking at me. Like, staring. Not that I blame you, but, really, cliché.”

She rolls her eyes and laughs while showing him her middle finger before standing up without a second thought. She covers herself on the way to the door with a random t-shirt on the floor, and simply leaves the room. She could offer breakfast, or a shower, but it’s Schistad we’re talking about, plus, she needs to check the state of the house as soon as possible.

Fortunately for her, some angel or more probably Noora helped her last night, because other than tons of empty bottles and beer cans, a should-be-impossible mess and so much dirt and sticky substances on the floor she doesn’t know how she’ll clean it up, there’s nothing out of place or, for that matter, broken.

The kitchen is crystal clear, and again, she can’t do anything but think about Noora and her pet peeve. Yes, it was definitely her friend that ended the party and made sure nothing extremely bad happened, because, after all, dirty kitchens are Noora’s and only Noora’s pet peeve.

Her stomach growls in a way that shouldn’t be natural and suddenly she realizes she needs as much food as she can have. There aren’t any cereals or bread for french toasts, so she simply settles for a few strawberries she finds at the back of the fridge and puts them in a bowl, eating silently while on the counter.

Chris appears only seconds later, now looking fully awake and just like his everyday self, as if he hadn’t been the most adorable human being just minutes ago. He’s wearing the black skinny jeans from the night before with the same white plain shirt he seems to love and a warm looking jacket that hangs from his index finger over his shoulders.

He leans on the door frame, smirk and raised eyebrows and all, and she can’t help but look at him amused, strawberry still between her fingers.

“Want a strawberry?” Is all she can think about. He barks out a laugh, and she’s about to correct herself with another question that isn’t so stupid, when he walks to her and softly, carefully, takes the strawberry from her fingers with his mouth.

It is so unexpected she’s left gasping like a fish out of the water. He’s looking at her, searching for a reaction while that stupid smile of his is still there, apparently glued to his face, but she can’t seem to find any that suits the moment. 

“Fucking hell, Schistad” Is the only thing that comes to her mouth. She could add something else, anything, only she doesn’t want to. And once again, Chris seems to think just like she does, because he’s over her before she can see it coming.

She feels dizzy as soon as his lips are on hers, hungry, and this time she can’t blame the alcohol. He’s moving them so fast she can barely keep the pace, but there’s no way in hell she’ll let him get away with it, so she brings him closer abruptly, grabbing him by the hem of his jeans, and once he’s close enough, she closes her legs around his waist.

“Let’s have a decent breakfast, Eva” He says, and just like that she looses sense of everything but him.

**Author's Note:**

> hi there guys! my name is pilar and i'm new here. this is something i wrote a few days ago and the very first i've shared. i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i'll probably keep posting so i hope we can get to know each other.


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